Celtic Lyrics Corner > Artists & Groups > Flora MacNeil > Craobh Nan Ubhal > Cha B'e Direadh A' Bhruthaich
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Cha B'e Direadh A' Bhruthaich |
| Credits : | Traditional; arranged by Flora MacNeil |
| Appears On : | Craobh Nan Ubhal |
| Language : | Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic) |
| Lyrics : | English Translation : |
| Cha b'e dìreadh a' bhruthaich | It was not climbing the hillside |
| Dh'fhàg mo shiubhal gun treòir | That left my walk without strength |
| Na teas ri là gréineadh | Not the heat of the day |
| Nuair a dh'éireadh i oirnn | When the sun rises high |
| Na teas ri là gréineadh | Not the heat of the day |
| Nuair a dh'éireadh i oirnn | When the sun rises high |
| Gu bheil moill' air mo léirsinn | There is a dimness in my vision |
| 'S cha léir dhomh ceum ròid | I cannot make out what is closer to me |
| Gu bheil moill' air mo léirsinn | There is a dimness in my vision |
| 'S cha léir dhomh ceum ròid | I cannot make out |
| Cha léir dhomh ni 's fhaisge | What is closer to me |
| Fiù a' bhata 'nam dhorn | Not even the staff in my fist |
| Cha léir dhomh ni 's fhaisge | What is closer to me |
| Fiù a' bhata 'nam dhorn | Not even the staff in my fist |
| 'S mi 'sa ghleannan bheag phreasach | And I in a little glen of copses |
| 'S mo lethcheann air lón | My cheek on the sward |
| 'S mi 'sa ghleannan bheag phreasach | And I in a little glen of copses |
| 'S mo lethcheann air lón | My cheek on the sward |
| Treis air smeuran nan drùisean | A while picking berries from the bramble |
| Greis air bristeadh nan cnò | A while cracking hazel nuts |
| Treis air smeuran nan drùisean | A while picking berries from the bramble |
| Greis air bristeadh nan cnò | A while cracking hazel nuts |
| 'Se mo dhubhailt mo bhreacan | My plaid is my towel |
| 'Se mo chopan mo bhròg | My shoe is my cup |
| 'Se mo dhubhailt mo bhreacan | My plaid is my towel |
| 'Se mo chopan mo bhròg | My shoe is my cup |
| 'Se mo thaigh mór gach glacan | A hollow is my mansion |
| 'Se mo leabaidh gach fròig | Any dark nook my bed |
| 'Se mo thaigh mór gach glacan | A hollow is my mansion |
| 'Se mo leabaidh gach fròig | Any dark nook my bed |
| 'S ged a dh'fhadainn-sa teine | And if I kindle a fire |
| Chì fear foille dheth ceò | An informer will see its smoke |
| 'S ged a dh'fhadainn-sa teine | And if I kindle a fire |
| Chì fear foille dheth ceò | An informer will see its smoke |
| 'S ged a cheannaichinn-sa buideal | If I buy a keg |
| Chan fhaigh mi cuideachd g'a òl | I cannot get company to drink |
| 'S ged a cheannaichinn-sa buideal | If I buy a keg |
| Chan fhaigh mi cuideachd g'a òl | I cannot get company to drink |
| 'Si do nighean-sa, Dhonnchaidh | It is your daughter, Duncan |
| Dha'n tug mi'n tromghaol, 's mi òg | Who put this burden of love on me in my youth |
| 'Si do nighean-sa, Dhonnchaidh | It is your daughter, Duncan |
| Dha'n tug mi'n tromghaol, 's mi òg | Who put this burden of love on me in my youth |
| Té dha bheil an cùl dualach | A girl whose hair is in ringlets |
| O guaillean gu bròig | From shoulder to shoe |
| Té dha bheil an cùl dualach | A girl whose hair is in ringlets |
| O guaillean gu bròig | From shoulder to shoe |
| 'Se sios ma da shlinnein | Descending between her shoulder blades |
| A's an ionad as boidhch' | The fairest part |
| 'Se sios ma da shlinnein | Descending between her shoulder blades |
| A's an ionad as boidhch' | The fairest part |
| 'S mór gu'm b'fheàrr dhut mi agad | You would be far better off with me |
| Na aon mhac breabadair beò | Than with any weaver's son alive |
| 'S mór gu'm b'fheàrr dhut mi agad | You would be far better off with me |
| Na aon mhac breabadair beò | Than with any weaver's son alive |
| Ged nach deanainn dhut fighe | Though I could not make cloth for you |
| Bhiodh iasg is sitheann mu'd bhòrd | You would have venison and salmon on your board |
| Ged nach deanainn dhut fighe | Though I could not make cloth for you |
| Bhiodh iasg is sitheann mu'd bhòrd | You would have venison and salmon on your board |
| 'S truagh nach robh mi 's tu, ghaolaich | Alas that you and I are not |
| Anns an aonaich 'm bi 'n ceò | Out in the misty moorlands |
| 'S truagh nach robh mi 's tu, ghaolaich | Alas that you and I are not |
| Anns an aonaich 'm bi 'n ceò | Out in the misty moorlands |
| Ann am bùthaig bhig bharraich | In a little hut of birch-twigs |
| 'Gun bhith mar rium ach d'fheòil | And no company but your own body |
| Ann am bùthaig bhig bharraich | In a little hut of birch-twigs |
| 'Gun bhith mar rium ach d'fheòil | And no company but your own body |
| 'S mi gu snàmhadh an caolas | How I would swim the narrows |
| Airson fàilteachd do bheòil | For the sake of the welcome of you lips |